Read The Playboy's Ménage (The Billionaire Bachelors Series) for Free Online Page A

“Are you trying to shock me, Peter Faraday? I told you neither one of you have many secrets left. My neighbor knows juicier tidbits about your sex lives. But if we’re swapping stories, I have one of a beautiful Audrey Hepburn lookalike who did lovely things to me with her tongue while her husband watched. And no, I won’t go into detail. Your turn.”
    Peter’s fingers tightened on the chair until his knuckles went white and he felt all the blood rush to his cock. Audrey Hepburn and Holly. Now there was a fantasy that instantly went to the top of his list. She was good at this, knew just what to say to throw him off his game. Why was he surprised? “Did you know about that too, Henry?”
    He saw his friend reach for the bottle and bring it to his lips. He’d obviously decided the glass wouldn’t be enough. When he was done taking several long swallows, he lowered the bottle and shook his head. “Hell no, man, I swear. I don’t think I could have kept that to myself without having a stroke.” He wiped his mouth, watching Holly as if she’d suddenly turned into a cobra…or a porn star. Peter couldn’t tell if he was shocked or impressed. He was betting on impressed. “But I do know she doesn’t do interviews. Not in the traditional sense. She works for her intel. If she’s writing about dog grooming, she grooms dogs, etcetera. And she’s thorough. Three months per research project.”
    “Henry Vincent.”
    Peter smiled at the way Holly said Henry’s name. “That is thorough.”
    Her fingers were tapping out a soft tune against the glass she was holding, signaling her discomfort to anyone paying attention. Were they making her nervous?
    “Three months for a career project,” she corrected. “For a single chapter? I rarely spend more than a few days. Otherwise I’d never get any actual writing done. It’s nothing that would take too much time away from anyone’s schedule.”
    Were her words meant to assuage their concerns or hers? It was a fabrication, her research request. Everyone in this room knew she had experienced at least one ménage. Knew she hadn’t forgotten.
    Audrey Hepburn’s tongue. Jesus.
    Peter was more than willing to go along with the charade, but she didn’t get to set the terms. He would need more than a few days to get what he wanted.
    “This isn’t exactly a simple research request, Holly. Three months might be enough to cover the basics. We do all have previous experience with the topic, which is a plus, but if you want to be thorough—and I know you do—we’ll need to put in the time.” Her lips parted and he hid his pleasure at her reaction. “I’m sure Henry wouldn’t mind using my place as home base for the duration. His city apartment is too small, and his family’s home is far too crowded for what you have in mind.”
    “Sounds good to me,” Henry agreed, wisely without any hesitation. “In fact, I could say you took the words right out of my mouth. I’m in.”
    “I had a feeling you would be.” Peter tilted his head, as if considering. “I had a few projects of my own planned for the summer, but nothing that can’t be rescheduled or worked around. When would you like to start?”
    She frowned in confusion and Peter wanted to laugh. Her provocative offer had gotten away from her, the situation swiftly morphing into more than she’d expected.
    “I think we got our wires crossed somewhere,” she muttered.
    He got up from his chair and walked over to hers, dropping to his knees and placing his hands on her calves to uncross her legs. “Not at all, Holly. We understand each other perfectly. You requested our services for your research, and you were right to do so. Not to brag, but I can’t think of two men better qualified to give you exactly what you need.”
    She bit her lip when his hands reached her thighs, pulling her to the edge of her chair, closer to him. “I suppose we could drag you to the floor and take you right now. Henry and I could spend